My longing for my family grew dearer and dearer as I strolled down a bustling Nanjing Road in Shanghai. The road did not resemble my neighborhood in Nanjing at all, as it consisted nothing of elegant western style architecture, but of old, nearly-collapsing buildings. Even after a month of settling here in Shanghai as a worker loading and unloading goods at the Port of Shanghai, I still stare at nearly everything in awe; the architecture, the blue-eyed foreigners, and the culture of Shanghai. But in one corner of my mind, there has always been my greatest concern; my family. The absence of my family is most evident when I return back from my rigorous work here in Shanghai. The welcoming voice of my daughter Ma Li Li as she wraps her hand around my sweaty arms without hesitation, the soothing smell of the rice porridge cooked by my wife Yang Mei, and the stumbling feet of my son, Ma Sheng Xun, as he wonders around our house, are some of the things I am never able to experience here. The only noise in my apartment is the occasional creaking sound of the floor as a tiny rat falls from a small hole in the ceiling.
Writing to my family is the only joy I have had recently. Although I’ll write them that I’m doing fine in Shanghai, the situation here is in fact, dreadful. Corpses of civilians still lay on the streets outside my apartment, and the city is fired up in thick smoke and intense heat. The worst has been predicted: a news of horror had spread a few months ago as Japan was successful in attacking parts of Manchuria and were planning to move up to Shanghai. Some of my coworkers panicked rather or not to flee to the countryside away from the Japanese invasion. I was left no choice; I came here to feed my family, so I would stay to support my starving kids and wife even if this means risking my own life. Now, in the midst of war with the Imperial Army of Japan, I must remain in Shanghai and safely return back to Nanjing when the money is earned. A few days ago, I almost encountered the worst incident of all. In the area of Shanghai International Settlement, there has been bombings not by the Imperial Japanese Army, but by the National Revolution Army of China. As the Shanghai International Settlement was adjacent to the port of Shanghai where I worked, some of my acquaintances had been killed from the incident. I could have easily been dead by now if it was not for the authority who summoned me to load some goods that has mistakenly been sent to Shanghai. By now, I think my family has already been informed about the situation in Shanghai.
August 30th, 1937
My longing for my family grew dearer and dearer as I strolled down a bustling Nanjing Road in Shanghai. The road did not resemble my neighborhood in Nanjing at all, as it consisted nothing of elegant western style architecture, but of old, nearly-collapsing buildings. Even after a month of settling here in Shanghai as a worker loading and unloading goods at the Port of Shanghai, I still stare at nearly everything in awe; the architecture, the blue-eyed foreigners, and the culture of Shanghai. But in one corner of my mind, there has always been my greatest concern; my family. The absence of my family is most evident when I return back from my rigorous work here in Shanghai. The welcoming voice of my daughter Ma Li Li as she wraps her hand around my sweaty arms without hesitation, the soothing smell of the rice porridge cooked by my wife Yang Mei, and the stumbling feet of my son, Ma Sheng Xun, as he wonders around our house, are some of the things I am never able to experience here. The only noise in my apartment is the occasional creaking sound of the floor as a tiny rat falls from a small hole in the ceiling.
Writing to my family is the only joy I have had recently. Although I’ll write them that I’m doing fine in Shanghai, the situation here is in fact, dreadful. Corpses of civilians still lay on the streets outside my apartment, and the city is fired up in thick smoke and intense heat. The worst has been predicted: a news of horror had spread a few months ago as Japan was successful in attacking parts of Manchuria and were planning to move up to Shanghai. Some of my coworkers panicked rather or not to flee to the countryside away from the Japanese invasion. I was left no choice; I came here to feed my family, so I would stay to support my starving kids and wife even if this means risking my own life. Now, in the midst of war with the Imperial Army of Japan, I must remain in Shanghai and safely return back to Nanjing when the money is earned. A few days ago, I almost encountered the worst incident of all. In the area of Shanghai International Settlement, there has been bombings not by the Imperial Japanese Army, but by the National Revolution Army of China. As the Shanghai International Settlement was adjacent to the port of Shanghai where I worked, some of my acquaintances had been killed from the incident. I could have easily been dead by now if it was not for the authority who summoned me to load some goods that has mistakenly been sent to Shanghai. By now, I think my family has already been informed about the situation in Shanghai.